


Mute

by FridaysChild



Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-05
Updated: 2012-03-05
Packaged: 2017-11-01 04:09:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/351777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FridaysChild/pseuds/FridaysChild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim can't make a sound in Conner's presence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mute

**Author's Note:**

> Double fill, for the DCU memes prompt "Because of some (most likely magical) reason, Tim is forbidden to make a sound in the presence of Kon. No talking, laughing, gasping, groaning, snorting, mumbling, humming, singing; no anything" and the 60_minute_fics prompt, "Silence: there are two different things you can choose to do with this one. Either write a 60 minute fic with absolutely NO dialogue, or somehow incorporate a character's sudden and unexpected loss of speech into the story."

Tim’s not speaking to Conner.

He’s literally not speaking to Conner, and really, Conner would have thought Tim was way too grown up and mature to play this kind of game, but apparently he can be just as petty and mean as anyone else when Conner pisses him off. 

Which is so not fair because Conner doesn’t have a clue what he did wrong. 

But it’s definitely him; he’s been trying to talk to Tim all day and Tim keeps avoiding him. Conner’s heard the murmur of his voice when he tries to approach a room, only for Tim to go mute as soon as he’s close enough to hear. At one point he starts yelling at Tim; he’s pretty sure the words “I don’t have to put up with this bullshit when I don’t even know what I did wrong!” pass his lips. 

Tim looks pissed off and starts making very deliberate (and also very angry) gestures. Of course Tim knows American Sign Language, though why he thinks Conner would understand any of that is beyond him. Maybe Tim’s insulting him to his face and he doesn’t even know it.

“What the hell!” he yells.

Okay, he understands that last gesture. That’s perfectly clear. Conner stomps off in a huff, almost mad enough that he wants to hit Tim.

Almost.

Five minutes alone, though, and he’s cooled down and is just depressed. He loves Tim. He fucking adores Tim, and Tim is mad at him, and Conner doesn’t even know why. He teases Tim sometimes but he really does try to be a good boyfriend. Hell, even Cassie, his solitary ex, usually admits he’s a good boyfriend. Granted, her words are “loyal like a dog” but she means it in a really nice way. He’s pretty sure. 

So. Tim is determined not to speak to him. Conner is determined to get him to talk.

He marches back out to the kitchen. Tim’s conversation with Bart stops and Conner finds himself tensing again. 

“So, there’s this priest who needs to hire a bell ringer for his church,” Conner starts. “He puts an ad in the paper, cause I guess he’s never heard of Craigslist-“

“-or maybe he doesn’t have a computer,” Bart suggests. “Since he’s a priest and all.”

“Yeah, but he could use the one at the library or something, right?” Conner remembers he’s supposed to be telling a joke. “Anyway, so this guy shows up and says he’s there to apply for the job, only he’s got no arms. So the priest is confused, because how is the guy gonna ring a bell? The guy asks for a chance to prove himself, so they go up to the bell tower. The applicant runs at the bell and hits it with his head and his momentum carries him out the window and he falls and dies, because Red Robin’s not around when you need him.” He grins at Tim. Tim’s eyebrow twitches.

“So the police show up to interview the priest and they ask if he knew the guy, and the priest says, ‘No, but his face sure rings a bell.’”

Tim’s eyes are practically rolling out of his head and his mouth forms a very distinct, silent groan.

Conner grins, encouraged. Tim’s not pushing him out of the room, anyway. “The priest still needs a bell ringer, despite the other guy’s tragic death. So he advertises again, and another guy shows up. He also has no arms and he looks just like the other guy! Well, it turns out they’re brothers. The priest says ‘Oh, no, we’re not doing this again.’ But the guy insists that the priest gives him a chance. The priest finally gives in, tells him to be careful, and they go up to the tower. Well, the exact same thing happens. When the police show up, of course they ask for his name, and the priest says ‘I don’t know, but he’s sure a dead ringer for the other guy.’”

“Don’t quit your day job for stand up comedy,” Bart groans. “Where did you even learn that?”

“Roy. He has a whole-“ Conner grins to himself, “-arsenal of bad jokes.”

Bart groans again. “I don’t know what’s going on with Tim, but I’m tempted to join him in not speaking to you. Only I have a feeling that would only encourage you.”

Conner grins. “Yup.” 

 

A day later and Tim’s still not speaking to him. Tim’s a quiet guy by nature, so Conner never quite realized what he’d be missing. But right now he is dying to hear the sound of Tim’s voice.

“Tiiiiim,” he says, creeping up on Tim (although he’s sure Tim heard him coming). He wraps his arms around Tim’s waist from behind and pulls him close. “Tim, please. I miss you. I even miss you telling me what an idiot I am. Please talk to me. Please please please.” He plants a soft kiss to Tim’s neck, right where it always makes Tim moan. Tim shivers, but doesn’t make a sound.

Conner frowns. “Tim. Tim, you’d tell me if something was really wrong, right?” he turns Tim to look at him. Tim just looks back at him sadly. “Tim, you know I love you, right?” A slight smile is in Tim’s eyes and twitching on his lips but he still doesn’t respond. Conner slides his hands up to Tim’s neck, stroking gently, feeling for some kind of injury Tim could have sustained that he’s trying to hide from Conner. There’s nothing there other than the old scar, mostly faded. Conner traces it with his thumb, reflecting that at least Tim still trusts him, because he’s not pulling away even though Conner has both hands around Tim’s neck and they both know how easy it would be for Conner to kill Tim with one quick flex of his hands.

“Tim,” Conner tries again. “Is something wrong?”

There’s a flicker in Tim’s eyes but he doesn’t say anything. Conner lets out a sigh and moves off, frustrated.

 

He’s decided he’s going to have to cheat. He has to hear Tim’s voice. The silent treatment is really starting to get to him.

He goes to his room and lies down on the bed, and then sends his superhearing out to eavesdrop on Tim. He picks up the murmur of Tim’s voice down in the gym, stretches a little further, and then-

-Tim goes silent.

What the hell. How could Tim possibly even know he was tuning just at that moment.

Then it full hits Conner. There really is something wrong- Tim’s not mad at him. It’s probably magic- Conner kind of hates magic. At least right now he does. 

He manages to rustle up Zatanna’s number. She’s there faster than Conner can say “tropeket ot snatiT rewoT.” 

Zatanna cloaks herself when she goes to look at Tim, because she says she doesn’t want any spell that’s affecting Tim to “see” her and lock her out.

She comes back a little later and nods. “There’s something.”

“Can you break it?” Conner asks, maybe a little too eagerly.

“There are a few ways to break a spell,” Zatanna explains. “Some can be countered directly, but this is not one of those. It is very much like a lock that has a specific key. You just need to figure out what that key is.”

“So what, like something someone has to do?” Zatanna nods, and Conner droops. “That could be anything.”

“I’m sorry I can’t be of more assistance.”

“It’s okay. At least I know it is a spell now. I thought he was just mad at me.”

Zatanna smiles. “Good luck,” she offers, and then disappears with a few words.

 

Conner’s well aware that whatever the key is, he may have no control over it. Still, he’s hopeful that there’s something he can do and is determined to spend as much time as he can with Tim, just in case. Plus since the spell only seems to prevent Tim from talking to him, maybe he is the key. Or holds the key. Something. Conner really hates magic. 

Maybe the trick is just to get Tim to a place where he can’t help it. Conner throws Tim over his shoulder, carries him to Conner’s room, drops him on the bed, and then pushes his shirt up. And then he tickles the hell out of Tim. It’s a closely guarded secret that Tim has the world’s most ticklish torso (though Conner’s sure that Dick at least knows about it). 

Tim’s laughing silently, tears running down his face, and if he could make a single sound he’d probably be wheezing for breath. It’s kind of eerie, actually. Tim finally gets a grip on Conner and flips them over, which is probably his way of saying ‘enough’ without actually saying it. 

“Oh, Tim,” Conner says. This is goddamned depressing. He pulls Tim onto his lap and kisses his hair, then runs his fingers through it, cuddling him close. “I’m gonna figure this out, I promise,” he says, and pulls Tim in for a proper kiss, lingering.

Conner’s mouth moves to Tim’s jaw and over to his ear, nuzzling. “I love you,” he murmurs, rubbing Tim’s back.

“Conner.” It’s barely more than a whisper, but Conner freezes and pulls back. 

“Tim?” he asks, eyes wide. 

“Conner,” Tim says again with more certainty and wraps himself around Conner, squeezing him tight. 

“What...true love’s kiss? You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

Tim laughs and it’s a sound and maybe the best one ever, and then he quiets for a moment.

“Tim. Tim, talk to me,” Conner says, his heart lurching in his chest.

“Sorry,” Tim says. “He called himself Grimm. I guess he really likes fairy tales.” 

“No kidding,” Conner says, and cups Tim’s face in his hands. “Please never do that to me again.”

“I’ll try not to,” Tim says.

“God, Tim.” Conner squeezes Tim, maybe a little too tight but Tim doesn’t say anything. He rolls them over and starts kissing down Tim’s neck. “I am going to make you make so much noise.

Tim moans. Conner smiles against Tim’s neck. “That’s a good start.”


End file.
